


look how they shine for you

by NoShipsLikePartnerships



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Space Champion Hermann Gottlieb, stars and saps, with some very mild angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 18:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17126444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoShipsLikePartnerships/pseuds/NoShipsLikePartnerships
Summary: Hermann misses the stars. Newt tries to help.





	look how they shine for you

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea for this one quite a while ago, but kept getting distracted and writing other things instead. So I took advantage of NaNoWriMo to finally write it, along with a few other Newmann fics I'd been itching to get to (and hope to edit soon).

 Hermann misses the stars.

Between the light pollution from the city, as well as the actual pollution, the night sky is rarely clear enough to properly see them from the Shatterdome, or anywhere in Hong Kong, for that matter. It isn’t like being in the countryside—Hermann is not, admittedly, an ‘outdoors’ type of person, but, oh, the view there is _spectacular_.

He had managed to convince his father to send him to the European Space Camp in Norway one year, the summer he had turned seventeen, and it had been one of the best weeks of his life. He and the other participants had been treated like real scientists, using real equipment, and had prepared for, and launched, a real rocket at the end of the week. Even the social aspect of it hadn’t been that bad, as he’d been around like-minded individuals, as opposed to the kinds of teenagers he was surrounded with at school, the ones who teased and ridiculed him for having such interests in the first place.

Out there, seeing the stars properly, the way they were meant to be seen, like he had never seen them before, or since... it had been breathtaking, enough to bring him to tears. Black skies, filled with nothing but countless pinpricks of light, as far as the eye could see, burning brilliantly, light-years away—a window into the past, an invitation into the future.

It had always been his dream to one day travel amongst them and see them for himself, to study them. He had wanted to understand the universe, understand his place in it, but the universe had different plans for him. That yearning, though, had led to his interest in mathematics—the language of the universe—and, in the end, he’d figured that would probably be as close as he would ever get. He’s long since left that dream behind, but has continued to admire them from afar.

Or, rather, he tries to. As they aren’t visible from his current location, he doesn’t have many alternatives. Planetariums aren’t as popular as they once were, and there aren’t any in Hong Kong. Over the years, people had stopped looking to the stars. Everyone’s attention had been firmly focused on the ocean, and all that had risen from it.

But the Breach has now been closed, and so maybe that will change.

A lot of things have changed, lately.

Hermann mentions all of this to Newt over lunch one day, but Newt just hums thoughtfully in response and doesn’t offer anything more, which, quite frankly, Hermann is a little disappointed about. It isn’t something they’ve talked about before, but Newt’s seeming lack of interest makes Hermann feel a bit silly for bringing it up at all. He supposes that they have more important things to think about, anyway.

The world may have been saved, but there are still reports to finish, and all sorts of official documentation that remains to be filled out. It will take some time to get all that sorted. Marshal Hansen seems to be doing his best, though it’s a bit what Hermann imagines herding cats might be like. There are a lot of departments, and a lot of people, to keep track of, and he does not envy the man one bit.

There have been rumors that the PPDC may continue to operate, and possibly even receive additional funding now, which Hermann finds a tad ironic. He doesn’t know if it’s so they will be ready, should the Kaiju ever return, or if there’s more to it than that, and isn’t yet certain if he will remain there either way. His inbox has been flooded with job offers lately—positions at everything from universities to military organizations, all over the world—as has Newt’s. They haven’t actually discussed it yet, so he’s not sure where Newt’s mind is currently at regarding this. 

If the Shatterdome does indeed close down, Hermann doesn’t know how likely it is that they’ll end up working in the same place again, or even the same continent. Just the thought of possibly being separated from Newt hurts too much to think about, and so Hermann pushes it to the back of his mind, in an act of denial that probably isn’t especially healthy.

Their relationship is still quite new, but he would very much prefer to stay together, if they can.

Despite the uncertainty regarding the future of the PPDC, they’ve been tasked with archiving their research, as well as cleaning up the lab, now that they’ve finally got the time for it. There are two large storage rooms, one on either side of the lab, that they’ve been filling up over the past five years, and they’re now boxing up their most recent work to add to that collection. Hermann has made quite a bit of progress on his own side (Newt ‘valiantly’ insists on carrying the heaviest boxes for him, and then complains the entire time) however...

He’s noticed a distressing amount of boxes gradually appearing outside of the storage room on Newt’s side of the lab. The storage rooms are quite spacious, so there really isn’t any reason why they shouldn’t all fit. Then Hermann notices the dates, scrawled in black marker, upon the sides of the boxes, as well as the coating of dust upon them. 

“Newton, I believe we are meant to be moving things _inside_ the storage rooms, not out of them...”

Newt glances up from the sample he’s currently working on. Just because the Kaiju are gone doesn’t mean that they should stop trying to learn all they can about them, or so Newt likes to argue—Hermann thinks he’s just trying to avoid doing any paperwork, or cleaning, or both.  “Don’t worry about it, dude.”

Hermann wouldn’t say that he is worried, exactly, but it is rather perplexing. Most things are, though, when Newt is involved. The feeling only increases as Newt keeps disappearing randomly throughout the days that follow. Hermann catches him coming out of the storage room a couple of times (the boxes outside remain untouched, and are, quite possibly, multiplying), but when he goes to open the door later to investigate, he finds that it’s been locked.

He asks Newt about it as they’re walking back to their quarters that evening, and is told that it has something to do with storing bioluminescent samples in a cool, dark place. 

“Really, it’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it,” Newt tells him once again.

Hermann opens his mouth to protest, but then Newt pulls him into his room, and then pulls him into a kiss, and then pulls at his shirt, and suddenly Hermann’s attention is focused on something else entirely. Not that he minds.

He is sufficiently distracted, and drops the subject.

 

When Hermann wakes up the next day, Newt is nowhere to be found. While he’s not a morning person by any means, it’s not out of the ordinary for Newt to get up early when he has a lot of work to do. That being said, Hermann does find it a little rude, as it is Newt’s room that he’s currently been left alone in. Grumbling, he gets dressed in yesterday’s clothes, and marches to his own room to get ready for work.

As he makes his way to the lab, Hermann notices that it’s a bit darker than usual, not that the Shatterdome has ever really been that well-lit to begin with. He looks up and sees that one of the lights in the hallway has burned out, which clearly nobody has bothered to change. Granted, people have had larger concerns recently, but that’s really no excuse—they still need to be able to see where they’re going. He makes a mental note to mention it to someone in Maintenance when he gets a chance.

Once Hermann reaches his destination, he stops short in the doorway.

The lab is empty.

Hermann frowns. There’s an abandoned mug of coffee on Newt’s desk, though there’s really no telling if it’s recent—knowing Newt, it could be a couple of hours old, or a couple of days old. He’d once left a tuna sandwich there over a long weekend, forgotten under some discarded folders, and by the time it had been discovered and disposed of, Hermann is sure it had been close to either achieving sentience or being declared a biohazard. 

He hears a noise from further inside the lab, coming from the storage room on Newt’s side. Improbably, the stack of boxes has grown yet again. Hermann’s frown deepens as walks over and knocks on the door. 

No answer.

He knocks again, more insistently this time and, after a few seconds, the door opens just enough for Newt to pop his head out. He’s got what appears to be black paint smudged on his cheek, and Hermann narrows his eyes. “Newton, what are you—”

“What?” Newt asks, as if this is perfectly normal.

Hermann gestures towards the boxes sitting outside the room. “Have you actually put _anything_ away yet?”

“I told you, I’m busy. I’ll get to it later.” 

And with that, Newt disappears inside, slamming the door in Hermann’s face.

Hermann blinks at the closed door, then scowls. He bangs on the door, and there’s a surprised yelp from inside before it swings open.

“Dude, _what_?”

This time, Hermann slides the end of his cane into the space between the door and the door frame, before Newt can close it again. 

“Don’t forget, Marshal Hansen is expecting our final reports by the end of the week.”

“Oh, that?” Newt waves a hand dismissively. “Yeah, it’s done.”

“It’s what?” Surely Hermann has misheard him. The entire time that he’s known him, Newt has been notorious for putting off writing his reports until the last minute, pulling all-nighters in order to complete them by their deadlines.

“It’s done. It’s already on my desk.” Hermann stares at him, and Newt rolls his eyes. “Hey, just because I don’t enjoy doing paperwork, like _some_ people, doesn’t mean that I don’t know how to do it.”

“I never said that you didn’t —”

“Anyway, I’ve, uh, got to get back to this. I’ll see you later.”

He gently nudges the end of Hermann’s cane with his foot until it’s clear of the door, which shuts immediately afterward. For a moment, Hermann considers knocking again, but he doubts that the result will be any different. Instead, he returns, more than a little annoyed, to his side of the lab to work on his own report. He tries not to think about what might be going on behind that door, and tries to ignore the growing sense of unease that’s creeping into his mind, and into his heart.

 

This goes on for almost a week. Hermann feels like he hardly sees Newt during the day anymore. They’ve taken to alternating between whose room they spend the night in, but it doesn’t make much of a difference—Newt leaves early in the mornings and returns late in the evenings, always with some vague excuse about being busy, and then falls asleep almost immediately.

Hermann might not have been worried before, but he is now. He worries that maybe he’s done something wrong, that he’s already pushed Newt away, made him regret what’s happened between them. Or perhaps Newt has simply grown bored with him. Hermann is aware that he isn’t exactly the most exciting person on the planet, and Newt does have a rather short attention span sometimes. He thinks about the job offers sitting in Newt’s inbox, imagines how enticing they might seem. 

The Ghost Drift offers no clues as to Newt’s behavior, which isn’t especially helpful. Hermann tries to put the whole thing out of his mind, but it’s far easier said than done.

He’s sitting in the mess hall, listlessly picking at his food, when a familiar voice interrupts his thoughts.

“LOCCENT to Hermann, you still with us?”

Hermann looks up to see Tendo, who grins and sets his tray on the table, then sits down across from him.

“I see you’re eating alone today,” he observes, and looks around. “Where’s your other half?”

Hermann sighs and puts down his fork, giving up on his meal. “I wouldn’t know, he keeps running off to work on some secret project of his, but...”

“But?” Tendo prompts.

“But I don’t know if there’s more to it than that.” Hermann stares down at his bowl of half-eaten noodles, as if they might hold the answers he’s seeking. “It almost feels like he’s actively trying to avoid me. Maybe... maybe all of this has been a bit too much, too soon.”

“Too soon?” Tendo laughs. “More like ‘not soon enough,’ if you ask me.”

Hermann winces at that, and blushes slightly. “Was it really that obvious?”

“Only to everyone but the two of you, apparently,” Tendo says. “I wouldn’t worry, the guy is crazy about you.”

“Hmm,” Hermann answers. He isn’t sure about that, but he hopes that it’s true. Maybe he’s overreacting. He must be overreacting.

Tendo shakes his head. “No offense, you guys might be geniuses but, when it comes to relationships, you’re not exactly the brightest bulbs in the box.” Hermann wonders which part of that he’s not meant to be offended by, though he knows that his friend means well. “Hey, that reminds me,” Tendo continues, “have you got any spare light bulbs lying around? We had a box of them somewhere upstairs, but I can’t find it. The desk lamp in my room died the other day, and it’s been driving me _nuts_.”

Hermann’s fairly certain that there must be some in the lab, and promises to look for them. However, like Tendo, he isn’t able to find any. Had they really used them all up? He honestly can’t recall. He checks the storage room on his side of the lab, but they aren’t in there. That leaves... 

He glances at the other side of the lab, and walks over to Newt’s storage room. Unsurprisingly, it’s locked again. He raps his knuckles against the door, but there’s no answer, meaning that Newt must be elsewhere (or ignoring him, though he hopes that isn’t the case). 

It’s doubtful that they’re in there, anyway, considering the rate at which the piles of boxes have been growing. He pokes around in said boxes, but there are no light bulbs to be found within.

Hermann goes about the rest of his day as best he can, albeit a bit distractedly—the silence in the lab is off-putting in its rarity, and he isn’t used to it. He waits around for a bit before going to the mess hall for dinner, but Newt doesn’t show up. Feeling a little dejected, Hermann goes on without him.

 

When Hermann returns to the lab, Newt is waiting for him, grinning eagerly. Hermann, while glad to see him, is immediately suspicious.

“Come here, I wanna show you something.” Newt grabs Hermann’s hand, and pulls him toward the storage room.

“Newton, what in the world—” 

Newt pushes the door open and leads him inside, then closes it behind them.

The room is pitch black.

“Newton...” Hermann sighs, already beginning to get fed up with this. He hears the sound of Newt fumbling against the wall, and then a ‘click,’ and then—

Stars? No...

Lights. Lights, _everywhere_.

Hermann blinks, his eyes adjusting to the sudden change from darkness to brightness, and makes out dozens of them throughout the room.

There are light bulbs of various shapes and sizes hanging from the ceiling, along with string lights and...

“Are those _Christmas_ lights?” They aren’t the typical multi-colored lights, but rather the more neutral yellow ones, which the PPDC puts up each year during the winter holidays, out of respect for everyone’s various beliefs.

“Yeah,” Newt grins, “I found them in the storage room. Um, well. A different one, anyway.”

Other than the lights, the room has been completely emptied out. Hermann looks around and realizes that the walls and ceiling, which used to be the same steel-grey as the rest of the lab, have all been painted black.

“How... how long did all of this take?” he asks in a hushed tone, though he suspects that he already knows the answer. “Also, dear God, how much electricity are you using for this?” They are, technically, still on a budget.

“Yeeeah, the answer to both of those questions is ‘you don’t want to know,’ but... it was totally worth it.”

Hermann walks through the room in wonder, finding himself in another world, entranced by it. The bare bulbs aren’t so bright as to hurt his eyes, but instead glow soft and warm all around them. It feels like they are the only two people in the universe.

“You said that you missed them,” Newt says, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “I thought I could bring them to you.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Newt agrees, though it isn’t the lights he’s looking at as he says this, “it is.”

All of this time, all of Newt’s secrecy, and this is what he had been up to. Newt had done this, all of this, for him. No one has ever done anything even remotely like this for Hermann before, and he’s so touched that he doesn’t know what to say.

“I... thank you, Newton.”

The words don’t seem adequate to properly express his appreciation, but there’s a sudden tightness in Hermann’s throat, so it’s all that he can manage at the moment. 

He takes another step, and notices that the room isn’t completely empty, after all. Several blankets have been spread across the floor, and he looks at Newt questioningly. 

“I thought that we could do some stargazing,” Newt explains.

“Yes,” Hermann says softly, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice, “I’d like that.”

Newt helps him down onto the blankets, and they lie, side by side, looking up at the stars in this makeshift sky. The lights have been strung haphazardly throughout the room, with the smaller string lights criss-crossing the ceiling from one corner to the other, and the hanging bulbs spaced out randomly in between. It perfectly captures the controlled chaos of the universe.

Hermann tilts his head. “Hmm, I don’t seem to recognize any of these constellations.” 

“Well, it’s a good thing that I’m here, then,” Newt tells him.

“Oh?” Hermann asks. “Are you an expert in astronomy, all of a sudden?”

“You better believe it. Wanna hear about them?” 

“By all means.”

“That one there is Mori, also known as ‘The Hunter and the Beast,’” Newt says, pointing. “The beast came from deep in the ocean and flew into the air, alll the way up into space, and the hunter flew up after it, with her wicked cool sword.” He traces the air with his index finger. “That’s that bit over there,” he adds.

“Ah, yes,” Hermann nods. “I see. And that one?”

“That’s the Big Bagel.” 

Hermann turns to look at him. “The Big Bagel?” he asks skeptically.

“Oh, yeah,” Newt says. “Look, see how it’s all round and there’s, like, a smaller circle inside of it? Bagel. And there’s the Cup of Coffee next to it. They’re like the Big and Little Dippers.”

“Those are asterisms, darling,” Hermann can’t help correcting him, “not constellations.”

“They’re distant cousins, _obviously_.”

“Of course,” Hermann says, “how silly of me.” 

This continues for some time, with Hermann pointing to a random set of lights, and Newt coming up with some whimsical-yet-charming story about them. He’s quite good at it, though that’s hardly surprising. Newt has always been creative and excels at improvisation, making it seem effortless.

Hermann uses his cane to gesture towards another set of lights, clustered in the upper left corner of the room. It appears that a couple of the strings have been tangled together, although it’s difficult to say whether or not it’s intentional. “What about that one, over there?”

Newt inches closer, taking Hermann’s hand in his. “That one?” He grins. “That one is Anura and Triturus, or ‘The Pioneers.’ So, there was this dude named Anura, right? He always wanted to go into space and see the stars, but had no way of getting there. Then one day, he met Triturus, who had found a way to get there, but this guy was, like, notorious for getting lost, so it was too dangerous for him to go alone. In the end, they helped each other reach the stars, and explored them together.”

“I think that one is my favorite.” 

“Yeah,” Newt says, “mine too.”

They lie there quietly, looking up at the lights. For once, it’s Hermann that ends up breaking the silence. “I’ve missed you,” he says, rubbing his thumb across the back of Newt’s hand.

“You did? But I was right here.”

“Exactly.”

“Yeah, about that...” Newt begins, sheepishly. “Sorry for the disappearing act. What did you think I was really up to all this time, anyway? I mean, I guess I wasn’t that subtle, but I’d like to think I was at least a _little_ bit mysterious.”

“Truthfully?” Hermann asks. “You kept disappearing and I... I was afraid that maybe I had done something wrong, that you were perhaps reconsidering—”

Newt turns to look at him, propping himself up on one elbow. “Whoa, whoa, wait, _stop_. No, _definitely_ not.” He shakes his head emphatically. “Shit, I never meant to make you feel that way, I’m sorry.”

“I know you didn’t,” Hermann says, giving Newt’s hand a light squeeze. “I suppose I let my insecurities get the better of me. And besides, what with those job offers and all...”

“What about them?” Newt asks, confused.

“Well, there’s no guarantee that the PPDC will remain active, and I certainly wouldn’t fault you for looking at other options, in the name of job security.”

Newt gives a small, incredulous laugh. “Hermann, when have I _ever_ cared about job security? I haven’t even opened those emails yet,” he says. “I’m not really in a hurry to, either. I’m pretty sure nothing in there is going to be that interesting to me, anyway.”

“So... you aren’t thinking about leaving, then?” 

Newt looks down at him seriously, reaching out to run his fingers through Hermann’s hair. “Why would I leave? Everything I want is right here.”

“Oh.” Hermann’s heart flutters in his chest.

He might not have ended up where he’d initially dreamed of going, but that dream hadstill dictated the direction his life had taken—from his studies, to the Jaeger Academy and PPDC, to his predictive model, to saving the world. To Newt. 

They’d been orbiting each other for years, two neutron stars on a collision course, and the resulting blast had been nothing short of magnificent, more extraordinary than anything he might have found in space. Hermann wouldn’t trade it for the world, _any_ world.

He is exactly where he needs to be. 

“Likewise,” he says. Newt beams, and it’s bright enough that it could join the lights above them.

Hermann smiles, and kisses him under the stars.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "Yellow" by Coldplay. When I first had the idea for this, I very briefly considered having Newt serenade Hermann with the song, guitar and all, but decided that was maybe Too Much (it totally still happens at some point, though. Newt's not really a Coldplay fan, but he knows that Hermann is, and so he learns the song just for him. It's all very sweet, and Hermann maybe (definitely) cries a little.) I snuck in a couple of other song references, gold star (heh) to anyone who caught them.
> 
> European Space Camp is a real thing, and I think that teen Hermann would have loved it.
> 
> 'Anura' is the scientific name for frogs and 'Triturus' is the scientific name for newts ;) 
> 
> As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated :) You can also find me on tumblr @chalkstardust (formerly @thewintersoufflegirl)


End file.
